


Drowned

by Fawkes_Rinzler



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-08 17:46:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8854993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fawkes_Rinzler/pseuds/Fawkes_Rinzler
Summary: It hurts to blink. To breathe. To exist. Will it mean anything? Or is this just the ultimate lesson in futility?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Bit of a turn from the beaten path. I don't plan more than two chapter, but there may be more.

His eyes burned and stung when he opened them. They felt rough and dry as his eyelids slid over them, like they were callused. Feeling was slowly coming back into his awareness as he stared up at the bright light. His body _hurt_ , throbbing and aching like he’d been dealt a hundred bone-breaking blows at once. All the pain seemed to stem from his chest, though, where his lungs felt like they were on fire. He blinked slowly, feeling the dry, callused feeling of his eyes. He tried to speak, but no sound came out. He closed his eyes and focused his mind inward.

 _Where am I? What happened?_

Shadows suddenly appeared over the bright light in his vision. They looked vaguely like they could be the silhouette's of people, but they were so dark and unfocused, it was impossible to tell. He tried to blink again, to force the blurriness away, but there was nothing to blink away. Slowly, with an arm that felt like it was made of lead, he reached up and tried to rub at his eyes.

“No, Master Plo! Don’t!” One of the silhouette’s cried as they grabbed his hand and pulled it back down. At the touch, Plo’s mind suddenly came into focus, as if the Force itself had been misaligned and was finally back in order. Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Wolffe. They were all in the room. Ahsoka had been the one to touch him. But Plo couldn’t see them. He tried to speak again, but no sound came out.

“Please don’t panic, Master,” Obi-Wan’s calm, soothing voice murmured as Ahsoka began to pet his head gently, “I know you must feel terrible right now, but we’re flying to the nearest Republic Medical Facility as we speak. You’ll feel better soon.”   
Focusing his mind to the best of his ability, Plo tried to reach out to the kind, willing minds around him.

_What happened? Why do I feel like this?_

Silence followed, and Plo began to wonder if, perhaps, his telepathy simply wasn’t working at that moment. Finally, though, Anakin spoke. Plo’s body twitched in surprise when he realized how close it was to him. He wished he could see. Or have enough energy to move. As it was, he could only lay on the bed, staring up into his bright light, feeling the callused sensation on his eyes and the burning in his body, too tired to move but too awake to succumb to exhaustion.

“We were going after General Grievous, Master. We got very close to catching him, but... he took you as a... hostage,” Anakin explained. Plo tried to remember, but his mind was turning up blank. He tried to move, to look over at Anakin, but Ahsoka reached out and took his hand gently.

“Try not to move, Master. You were badly injured. Just rest, okay?” The dark blur of what Plo could only assume was Ahsoka’s hand came to rest over his eyes, brushing over his lids gently, filling his mind with an exhaustive fog as he began to surrender to sleep.  
Before he fell asleep, Plo wondered how Ahsoka could touch his eyelids if his goggles were on.

 

When Plo awoke again, it was back on a bed, but the light was not nearly so bright or aggressive. Someone was sitting over him, and even though Plo couldn’t quite make out their shape or person, they looked a bit clearer. With an arm that didn’t feel quite so heavy to lift anymore, Plo took the hand of the individual beside him. His Force senses felt incredibly dulled, and only physical contact was telling him who was nearby.

“Welcome back, Master Plo,” Obi-Wan murmured as he took Plo’s hand and squeezed it gently, “I hope you’re feeling a bit better. Try not to talk though. They’ll have to handle your damaged vocal chords a bit differently."

Plo nodded silently as he sat up a bit. His chest still burned and his eyes still felt dry and callused, but he felt more able-bodied now. He might not be able to run or jump, but he could probably walk around for a while, if he were pressed. He felt and sensed Obi-Wan sit down on the bed beside him. Sensing that the Master was staring at him, Plo reached up and touched his eyes curiously, trying to ask a question that he felt too tired to telepathically inquire.

“Your goggles are off, Master Plo, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Obi-Wan murmured. Plo frowned deeply as he reached up to his mouth and touched his mask. However, as his hand wrapped around the metallic apparatus, a tube-like structure got in his way. Plo pulled his hand back quickly before reaching up and tapping the mask with his claw.

It wasn't metallic at all. It felt like plastic.

“The thing is, Master Plo... as Anakin mentioned back on the ship, you were taken hostage,” Plo nodded silently. He remembered that, “When I say taken hostage, I mean that Grievous grabbed you by your breathing mask and threatened to rip it off of your face if we didn’t drop our weapons...”

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, “What could we do? We weren’t in a tactical advantage to go around you to get to Grievous, so we all dropped our weapons. I suppose you must have seen an opening, I’m honestly not sure, but you grabbed Ahsoka’s lightsaber and shoved it through Grievous’ chest plate. You didn’t damage anything mortally, but you had him turning tail and fleeing faster than I’d ever seen... Unfortunately, during that maneuver, he’d ripped your mask and goggles off...”   
Plo’s eyes widened as he looked right at Obi-Wan, “He... He kicked you away rather hard, in the stomach, Master.... It forced you to take a breath.” Obi-wan went silent and Plo could feel the tension and terror in Obi-Wan’s form. The Kel Dor reached out and gently took Obi-Wan’s hand in his, trying to assure the younger Jedi that he was still very much alive, regardless of that apparently horrible display that had occurred. “Ahsoka, well... she....” Obi-Wan laughed a bit uncomfortably, “I’m sure they heard her screams on Coruscant. Master Plo, you were bleeding everywhere... Through your mouth and eyes. The sounds were you making. I’ve never see someone drown in the middle of a space ship, and I can say I never want to again.”

Plo tapped at his mask in silent asking, and Obi-Wan chuckled, “Would you believe it was Anakin?” He murmured, “I was too shocked to do anything, Ahsoka was a crumbling mess, the Wolfpack was nowhere nearby, so Anakin grabbed your mask and put it back on you. The goggles as well, although I suspect that, unlike with the mask, after your eyes are exposed, putting the goggles back on doesn’t help...”

Plo shrugged in agreement. It was true, unfortunately. That would explain why his vision could only make out shadows, then. If his goggles had been ripped off, it could take at least a week before the sensitive tissue repaired itself enough for him to see again. Obi-Wan breathed a sigh and shook his head.

“I suppose you don’t remember any of this? I’m glad... You looked like you were in so much pain, Master. I wouldn’t wish that experience on anyone. It looked terrible,” Obi-Wan sighed sadly, “They’ll put you on a Nebulizer tomorrow to start repairing your vocal chords. I assume you know there’s nothing they can do for the eyes but wait. Your lungs were damaged, but they were able to repair the majority of it.... All except the vocal chords, because of how difficult they are to get to.”

Plo nodded in understanding. Like his vision, his voice would come back only in time.


	2. Chapter 2

“Alright, Sir. We need you to reach a brisk walking speed now. Nothing too quick, just to get your heart-rate up,” the droid from the other side of the room said. Plo could almost make it out now. Instead of a dark shadow without form, it was now grey, metallic humanoid-like figure with no form. Defined shapes were still a stretch away, but it was definitely an improvement to three days ago, when Plo could just barely define the difference between light and darkness.

Plo began to step, one foot in front of the other as the treadmill began to move beneath his feet. Plo could still feel the pain in his chest, the effort it took to inhale and exhale, like someone was holding him around the middle, but his body was demanding to move and days of sitting in bed had finally pushed him to the edge. He began to walk a bit faster. His heart was beating, but it was still calm and relaxed. His body was used to so much more. It was capable of so much better than this.

Plo suddenly broke into a run, forcing the treadmill to move faster. It made him have to breathe harder, and his chest began to burn as his heart began to speed up, but he didn’t care. 

“Sir, please, I understand you must have pent-up energy, but doing this might cause further damage!” The droid cried out frantically as Plo continued running. His chest was hurting so much, Plo began to wonder if if it would be easier to just hold his breath. He just needed to move! His body felt so good doing this! He felt young and energetic again! He felt ready and able bodied, and he wanted to keep at it.

But it hurt to breathe.

“General, please,” Plo’s steps faltered when he heard Wolffe’s earnest begging from behind him. His balance shifted, and Plo had to toss himself off the treadmill so as to not fall and hurt himself. The impact of his body landing on the ground stung, but he would never let anyone notice.

“That was a very dangerous move, Sir,” The droid murmured as it walked over to Plo and removed his mask. The Kel Dor let out a tired sigh as he inhaled the Dorin air that the were pumping into the room. Wolffe was wearing a mask. Plo could just barely see it as the Clone walked over to him.  
 “Are you alright, General?” 

Plo averted his gaze, his hand reaching up to cover his mouth. He’d been more exposed to his companions in the past three days than he ever had before in his life, and he was finally beginning to feel self-concious.

“Fine,” Plo sighed as he turned to leave the room. The droids had gotten what they’d needed and Plo was only beginning to feel frustrated now. He walked swiftly back to his room, his hand covering his mouth so no one else could see it. It had been incredibly kind of the Medical facility to temporarily take a small section of the station to convert the oxygen to just Dorin air. It was definitely helping Plo’s recovery time. As Plo stalked down the hall, the sound of rapid footfalls slowed Plo’s steps slightly.

“I’m sorry, General,” Wolffe mumbled timidly as he walked behind the Kel Dor, “I didn’t mean to upset you, Sir... I was worried you’d hurt yourself,” Wolffe explained, “I didn’t intend to-”

Plo turned and looked Wolffe in the eye. It was a bizarre thing, to know that his gold eyes could meet with Wolffe’s brown ones, entirely uninhibited...

“You didn’t upset me, Commander. My feelings come from my own limitations,” Plo looked down at himself in distaste. His chest was throbbing and his head hurt and his throat was so sore, but he had to keep speaking in order to help the vocal chords heal properly. If he remained silent until they were fully healed, he could have ended up mute...

“Limitations, General?” Wolffe asked, “You don’t seem limited to me, Sir...”

“My chest hurts, Wolffe,” Plo explained as he turned to walk again. Wolffe followed, “My vocal chords are throbbing just from the little I’ve said today. I can barely take in a full breathe without feeling like I might cry from the pain I’m in. I can barely see! You are nothing but a blurry figure in front of me! My eyes feel like they have scabs on them,” Plo cried out in frustration. The crackle of electricity sparked between Plo’s fingers and suddenly, in a fit of childish frustration that had to come out somehow, Plo stamped his foot on the ground and _felt_ the electricity burst from his body in a blinding flash that had Wolffe backing away in surprise.

“I.... I can understand how that would be upsetting, General,” Wolffe said gently. Plo sighed, his shoulders sagging in defeat as all the frustration left his body in a single instant, leaving him tired, sad, and desperate to just hide himself away and mediate for a bit.

“Wolffe?” Plo murmured, “Can you please help me back to my room? I’m suddenly very tired...” 

“Of course, General.”

Wolffe didn’t hesitate to wrap one arm around Plo’s waist as another came to rest on the Kel Dor’s shoulders. Plo was grateful for that action. Wolffe had just silently assured him in a single motion that Plo’s little outburst had not frightened him, which was good. Plo allowed himself to be led back to his quarters without fuss. He was too tired to think straight, and he just wanted to lie in bed and do nothing.

“For what it’s worth, General, even unable to breathe or see, you’re still the strongest Jedi I know,” Wolffe murmured softly.

Plo allowed himself his moment of weakness. He allowed his head to fall into the crook of Wolffe’s neck. He allowed himself to feel all the frustration and sadness and disappointment that his body hurt and wasn’t getting better. He allowed himself to feel that limitation.

And Wolffe didn’t say a word as his General cried.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That moment when you realize you don't know how to end a fic.

Plo sat on his bed for hours after that, left alone to think and feel while being safeguarded by Wolffe from outside, who turned away any that dared to approach the door. Plo smiled to himself as he heard his Commander get into a rather heated argument with a medical droid. His dear Commander cared for him very much, and Plo was grateful that Wolffe was so dedicated to keeping him safe. Plo had lost track of time when his door quietly slid open and a soft voice broke him from his meditation.

“Koh-to-ya, Master Plo,” Ahsoka greeted gently. Plo’s eyes opened to find the blurry, unfocused form of Ahsoka coming over, holding something in her hands, “I brought dinner.”

Plo smiled as he got out of bed and walked over to the table and chairs as Ahsoka set up their food. Plo could make out the shape of his bowl, and the utensil being handed to him, but he had no idea what he was eating.

“Did I scare Wolffe away, then?” Plo asked dryly as he poked at his food. It wasn’t liquidy, so it wasn’t soup then. He tried stabbing at the object, but found that whatever it was was too scattered to be stabbed at.

“Noodles, Master,” Ahsoka explained. Plo nodded gratefully as he began to eat. He couldn’t even be embarrassed or ashamed. There was no way for him to tell what the strange, yellow mass was on his plate, “And no, you didn’t scare him away,” Ahsoka giggled, “I sent him down to dinner. He’s been standing guard all day and I thought he should have a break. Besides, I can keep an eye on you,” Ahsoka giggled teasingly.

Plo conceded to that. He wasn’t hard to keep an eye on right now anyways. Ahsoka reached over the table and took his hand gently, squeezing it with all the sympathy and love she had to offer.

“It’ll be okay, Master Plo. It’s temporary,” Ahsoka assured gently. Plo nodded slowly.

“I know... but I think that’s what makes it all the harder,” The Kel Dor admitted sadly, “The waiting...”

Ahsoka nodded sadly, “I know. I can only imagine how frustrating it must be,” she murmured sympathetically, “When you.... I....” She took a deep breath, and Plo could hear the way her voice caught, “Watching you on the floor... I know we aren’t supposed to have attachments, Master, but I-”

When Ahsoka’s sob finally broke free, Plo was there, kneeling in front of her and holding her tightly to his chest. As frustrating as these temporary limitations were, he often forgot the deeper meaning behind why he’d ended up in this situation. He could not remember his self-sacrificing attempt at destroying Grievous, or what had followed. Plo rested his head silently against Ahsoka’s as he tried to instill some calm in her frantic, emotional mind.

“I am so sorry I scared you like, Little Soka,” Plo whispered softly, “I’m so sorry you had to see it.”

Ahsoka wiped her eyes and swallowed hard, “No, I-” Ahsoka shook her head, but did not pull away from the embrace, “I’m sorry, Master,” She took a deep breath and steadied herself, “I still need to meditate to come to terms with what I saw... It just upset me so much.”

Plo smiled sadly, “To be fair, it is never easy to see another being bleed out, regardless of our emotional bond towards them,” he offered.

Ahsoka laughed a bit weakly, “Sure, if the Council asks, we’ll claim it was the gore,” she murmured. Plo gently let her go before sitting back down again to continue eating. Ahsoka poked at her food for a bit before finally beginning to eat as well, “Speaking of the Council, we were speaking to Master Yoda today. He was asking about you.”

Plo nodded silently. He was finding less and less reasons to offer verbal responses now that it hurt to speak. Ahsoka chuckled.

“He said to take as long as you need to recover. We’re not needed right now, so if you want to stay another week and a half, that’s fine.”

Plo looked up, surprised, “You, Kenobi, and Skywalker? Surely that’s a bit excessive...” 

Ahsoka shrugged and smiled, “It’s been a while since we had a break, and this Medical facility is actually really nice. Master Anakin and I are actually going down to the Planet tomorrow to look around. As I understand it, Master Obi-Wan plans on coming to provide a bit of mental stimulation for you tomorrow as well,” Ahsoka giggled.

Plo rolled his eyes, “I’ll be sure to shower and brush my teeth,” He muttered as he took a bite. Ahsoka giggled and nodded.

“Speaking of which... how are you feeling, Master Plo?”

The Kel Dor sighed deeply. It was the one question he’d been getting very tired of hearing. Mostly because he felt bad being honest. Lying, of course, would not get him anywhere either. If he claimed he was fine, they would know it was not true, but being honest felt as if he was burdening others...

“I’m... in a lot of pain,” Plo admitted, “My chest feels heavy and throat hurts. It’s also a bit hard not seeing very well...”

“It’s improving though, right?” Ahsoka asked hesitantly, “The vision at least?”

“Yes,” Plo assured, “It’s improving, but it’s slow.”

Ahsoka stood up and cupped the Kel Dor’s cheek gently, “Give it time, Master. I know you’ll feel much better by the end of the week,” she assured as she began to clean up their dishes, “Now, I’ll leave you alone so you don’t have to wear yourself out and strain yourself with talking. Get some rest, okay? Do you want me to send Wolffe back?”

Plo shook his head, “If the droids come, it’s for a reason. Let him rest,” Plo murmured. Ahsoka nodded before turning to leave. Plo stood slowly and walked back towards the bed, his exhaustion suddenly hitting him far harder than he he had realized. Before he’d even properly drawn the blankets up around his body, he was asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goddamn, and if this wasn't just the most frustrating chapter to write. Bridge chapters are the worst, I hate them so much because they are so dang boring!! XP I promise we'll get to more angsty goodness soon~

Plo had awoken early the next morning, disturbed out of sleep by the nightmares of losing his mask and having to watch Ahsoka’s terrified face as he drowned in the oxygen. The Kel Dor shook his head and turned on the lights to his room. The world was still blurry, but things were slowly coming back into focus. His lungs were burning, though, and his vocal chords were aching from the day before, so he reached over to the machine beside his bed, wrapped the plastic mask around his face, and turned on the nebulizer. 

He tried to breathe normally as the mist curled through his sensitive respiratory system, but he could feel the bizarre wetness of the mist and couldn’t help but cough roughly. It hurt to cough, to expel the air so roughly and sharply from his body, but ultimately, the medicine would help more than it would hurt.  
The door slid open and Obi-Wan appeared, a mask strapped over his face, “Good morning, Master Plo, how are you feeling?” Obi-Wan asked as he grabbed the chair from the table across the room and dragged it over to the bed. Plo shifted himself so he could sit up properly in bed. 

“Tired and sore, but at least I’m not asleep,” Plo muttered as he rubbed his forehead, “Are Ahsoka and Anakin on the planet then?” He inquired. Obi-Wan nodded, “I hope it’s an enjoyable time. They shouldn’t feel like they have to stay here...” Plo muttered guiltily. Obi-Wan looked over at him curiously.

“Master Plo, forgive me, but they’re here because they want to stay. I don’t wish to dredge up horrific memories, but we all saw what happened to you. We’re staying because we want to make sure you’re recovering. Mostly, it’s because we care about you, but if it helps your conscious, we’re also doing it selfishly because we need to the catharsis of knowing that you’re fine now.”

Plo chuckled, “That does help,” he assured as he reached out and took Obi-Wan’s hand, “So... I believe Ahsoka said you were here to provide some mental stimulation?”

Obi-Wan laughed before launching into the recent news of what was going on in other parts of the galaxy, as well as some battle plans and strategies that they could consider. Plo appreciated the the distraction for what it was, knowing that much of this was just a theoretical back-and-forth as to what would be the most advantageous in a fight, but it was distracting him from the pain in his lungs and giving his sensitive vocal chords some much needed exercise.

“Wolffe told us about your little outburst yesterday,” Obi-Wan said suddenly, startling Plo out of his musings. The Kel Dor turned to look at Obi-Wan, brows furrowed slightly before looking away.

“It was a moment of weakness,” The Kel Dor mumbled, “Nothing more.”

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrow, “A full-body burst of electric judgement hardly sounds like a moment of weakness...”   
Plo looked up, “You aren’t referring to...” At Obi-Wan’s questioning head-tilt, Plo shook his head, “Nothing... Did you report that to the Council?”   
Obi-Wan shook his head, “What’s there to report? Master Plo Koon was feeling frustrated that he couldn’t breathe so he let out an electric discharge in a moment where he felt helpless? Hardly something the council would want to discuss. I think Master Windu would actually feel rather put out if we gave him a report like that,” Obi-Wan chuckled. Plo smiled a bit, but didn’t respond.

It hadn’t been a good day yesterday...

Obi-Wan suddenly gave him a look, “You know, I used to think that, when I’d finally see you without your mask on, it would be a big deal.... But it feels so natural suddenly,” Obi-Wan shrugged, “Might by the switch in roles, with you unmasked and me wearing one, but I don’t know. It’s feels normal, almost.”

Plo smirked, “And here I thought I’d have the masses running in fear from the horror that is my visage. I’m disappointed, Master Kenobi, I wanted a bigger response.”

Obi-Wan grinned, “Now now, Master Plo, you had quite the response we first saw you unmasked!” Obi-Wan pointed out.

The Kel Dor wrinkled his face to bare his beak in what could only be described as a Kel Dor equivalent of baring one’s teeth. Obi-Wan chuckled as he stood up, “Well, I better grab lunch. I’ve definitely denied you food long enough, Master.”

Plo nodded and watched as Obi-Wan left. He hadn’t left the room very much since he’d gotten there. Only to preform a few tests that the Droids needed him in another room for. But he was finally beginning to grow restless. He wouldn’t be able to go far, just the section quarantined in the Facility. Wearing his mask would just slow down the healing process.

But he was desperate to move and ready to go out of his mind with restlessness, so he got up and walked out of the room as well, with no real destination in mind. It was nice to get out, to experience a change of pace, but the throbbing in his chest reminded him that he couldn’t really go far. He was supposed to be on the nebulizer for three hours every day to ensure proper healing. Today, he’d only gotten in an hour and a half, at most.

Plo could feel the itch in his chest reminding him of this, of the growing burning sensation in his lungs and the itch in his throat. Unable to control the itch and compulsive urge that followed, Plo began to cough. The forced exhalation immediately resulted in a ripping agony through his lungs, causing him to double over and clutch the wall as he continued to cough. One part of his mind was incredibly self-conscious at this moment of such weakness, the other was far too focused on the fact that there was now blood splattering onto his hand.

Plo turned and fell back against the wall, allowing himself to slide down as he tried to take over his breathing once more. A soft inhale and exhale, the only way to avoid the deep breaths that created the itch. Small flecks of blood were still escaping his mouth with every breath. Plo laid back and closed his eyes. If he just sat there for a bit, he might be able to regain his energy enough to go back to his room. He’d made a mistake trying to walk so far. 

Plo wasn’t sure how long he sat there, but before the hour was out, he’d fallen asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last one for the night, I think. I have to bake cookies, and I plan on watching more Clone Wars~

“You can’t be comfortable there, General.”

Plo’s eyes opened slowly to see Wolffe kneeling in front of him, carefully placing the nebulizer over his mouth. The Clone was smiling thinly as he sat back to watch the Kel Dor take a deep breath of the medication. Plo reached up to rub at his eyes. His vision was far clearer now. Blurs were now on minute details at far distances. Wolffe was as clear as day to him, finally.

“How long was I out?” Plo asked as he slowly looked down the hallway. His neck was sore from the strained position, and as Plo tried to tilt his head back into place, he felt something snap and a warm pooling sensation in the back of his neck. He deeply as he reached up to rub at the sore vertebrae. 

“Long enough, General. You gave General Kenobi and I quite a scare. We had a hard time finding you properly,” Wolffe murmured as he sat down beside Plo. The Kel Dor let his head fall against Wolffe’s shoulder as a tired sigh escaped him.

“Wolffe, how long have we been at war?” 

Wolffe glanced over at him, “We’ve been fighting for almost two years, General... Why?”

Plo shook his head and sighed, “No,” Plo whispered, “I’ve been fighting for a lot longer than that.... The Stark War? That was 42 years ago now... I was there for that. My Master asked me to be apart of the Jedi Council before that short war... The Yinchorri Uprising? I was there for that too... eleven years after the Stark War. I’ve watched families grow and shrink. I’ve watched Jedi go from younglings to masters... I’ve seen so many deaths, Wolffe.” Plo reached out and took Wolfe’s hand, squeezing it like it was a lifeline to this world, “So many deaths. My master died during the Stark War. My best friend, Micah Giiett, died during the Yinchorri Uprising. Qui-Gon Jinn, my oldest friend and creche-mate died ten years ago before all this even began...” Plo suddenly stirred, moving slowly as he got up, his body trembling with the effort.

“General?” Wolffe stood as well, taking Plo’s hand when the Kel Dor reached for him.

“I’m old, Wolffe,” Plo murmured sadly, “A relic of a time before all this.... I’ve seen so many battles. So much sadness. I’m often left wondering why we bother. Why do we still fight? What do we seek to gain at the end of it all? We’ve been fighting before the Separatists even posed a threat.... and we’ll continue fighting until the last man in the Universe falls... But why, Wolffe?”

Plo shook his head, “We claim to be peacekeepers.... But I don’t even know what peace looks like anymore...”

Wolffe bit his lip, at a loss for what to say. He could not comfort his General, because he knew nothing he could say would help.

“I am left to wonder why Skywalker saved me,” Plo murmured softly as the two began to walk back to Plo’s room, “If any Jedi were to die, I would choose myself to be the first candidate.”

“Please don’t talk like that, General,” Wolffe murmured, “We still need you...”

Plo shook his head, “Don’t listen to me, Wolffe... I’m just experiencing a moment of survivor's guilt... You and yours risk your lives every day for us... How many of your brothers have unmarked graves on planets thousands of miles away because they fell in the line of duty, barely a few years old and already taken...”   
Wolffe reached out and grasped Plo’s shoulders. The Kel Dor turned to look as Wolffe drew him into a tight hug.

“We know the risk, General. We all know the outcome of war, and if there were anyone who would survive this, I would hope it was you, Sir...” Wolffe murmured as he held the Kel Dor tightly. Plo shook his head as he wrapped his arms around Wolffe as well, hugging his commander close to him. Wolffe felt so warm and so soft.... He was so young.

“No, Wolffe... I’ve seen the galaxy, I’ve lived over 80 years..... You are so young still, my Wolffe... I would hope and pray beyond belief that if there is any to survive this War, it is you.... I want you to see the Galaxy, Wolffe. It has so much beauty in it, if you know where to look. There are the kindest and warmest of hearts out there, living like delicate flowers amongst the barraging storm of war and hate...” Plo laughed suddenly, “I’m waxing poetic, aren’t I?”

Wolffe shrugged and smiled, “You do it well, General... I don’t mind.”

Plo shook his head and sighed as they finally reached his door, “Well... I guess I should rest then. Tomorrow, they’re doing another stamina test. I can’t imagine they’ll be happy that I coughed myself bloody today,” The Kel Dor muttered wryly.

Wolffe nodded gently as he followed Plo into his room, “Can I stay, General? With you?”

Plo smiled tiredly as he sat down in bed and drew the blankets around himself. His sleep had been so disturbed the night before. He deserved a more peaceful rest, he supposed...

“Of course, Commander... If you’d like, you can talk... I think I would not mind hearing you speak while I rest... assuming you don’t mind if I fall asleep on you,” Plo added with a small smile.

“Not at all, General,” Wolffe assured gently as he sat down on the chair beside Plo’s bed, “Hmm.... I know.... It was my first day away from Kamino, and I was heading to Coruscant with the rest of my battalion. We’d been assigned to a Jedi Master who was rumored to be a very strange being, and a hard taskmaster. I suppose you could say I was nervous. I didn’t know what to expect. Well, you wouldn’t believe it, General, but just as we were about to reach Coruscant, we were redirected to another planet that was under Seperatist attack! They said that our General was being sent there as well, and we’d have to meet him in the middle of a war zone... Well, I was definitely not sure what to expect now. A strange being whom I’d never met before suddenly giving me orders while under the fire of shinies? I was worried I wouldn’t be able to understand a word he was saying! You can imagine my surprise when we got to the planet to see it covered in a sea of battle droids. It was a mess... Thankfully, I was ready for this, and when we were deployed on the scene, I was ready to take charge! I never expected our General to already be there, though, so you can imagine my surprise when he appeared from the smoke, clad in brown robes, looking every inch the Jedi warrior we knew he’d be...”

Plo smiled sleepily as he listened to Wolffe, a yawn escaping him as his eyes grew heavy, “I remember that,” Plo whispered, “I was so nervous.... I’d never led an army before...”

“We weren’t even sure you spoke Basic,” Wolffe chuckled, “Anyway, when we saw you, standing out there in the sea of droids, I know there was no feeling I felt stronger than that of pure respect. I knew this was a General I could follow... This was someone I could trust to lead me into battle...”

Plo fell asleep with a small smile turning up his face. He was old, yes... and he’d seen more than he’d ever wished to see... but the knowledge that someone out there still cared, the fact that Wolffe still admired him like the day he’d first scene him, with the same matching awe and loyalty in his voice... It definitely made him feel better.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this story going somewhere? Yes, Probably! Where is going, you ask?.... I have no freaking clue...

Plo awoke a few hours later, blinking away the exhaustion, but feeling much better. He was alone, but that didn’t surprise him. If he was correct, it was probably around dinner time now, so Wolffe was probably eating with the others. He sat up properly in bed and put on the nebulizer mask again. 

Suddenly, the door to his room opened and Wolffe walked walked in, a tray of food in hand and a knowing smirk on his face, “Good evening, General. Feeling better?”   
“Indeed so, Commander,” Plo murmured as Wolffe set the tray down on his lap, “And you?”

“Just fine, Sir,” Wolffe announced, “Actually, Sir.... If you’re feeling well enough, you’ve got some visitors...”

Plo raised his eyebrow, a patient smile on his face, “Have Ahsoka and Skywalker returned from their adventure to the planet, then?”   
Wolffe shrugged, “Well, they have, sir, but that’s not whose come to visit you...”

Two heads peaked in through the door, both adorned in masks, but Plo recognized them immediately on sight and broke broke into a broad grin, “Boost! Sinker! What are you two doing here?” 

The two hurried into the room, twin grins on their faces, “We’ve been waiting for the chance to see you, General!” Sinker explained as they walked to the Kel Dor’s bed. Boost sat down on bed while Sinker took the chair Wolffe had occupied a few hours before. The Commander was standing by the door, smiling knowing.

“We heard what happened with General Grievous, sir. We were horrified!” Boost explained quickly. Sinker nodded in agreement.

“The Entire Batallion wanted to come and see you, General!” Sinker explained, “Of course, that seemed a little excessive... and we are needed out there, Sir...so we decided to be the ones to come see you, Sir! How are you feeling?” 

Plo took Boost and Sinker’s hands in his own and squeezed them gently, “Much better, now that you both are here,” Plo assured warmly, “How long are you two staying here?”

Boost shrugged, “Just for the day, Sir. We gotta join the rest of the Wolfpack out there, you know...” Plo nodded in understanding, “But, Sir... we’re not the only ones that came to see you...”

Plo raised his eyebrow, “Another surprise? How exciting...” Plo, Wolffe, Sinker, and Boost, all turned back towards the door, patiently waiting.

“Koh-to-ya, Uncle...” A warm, feminine voice murmured as a female Kel Dor stepped through the doors, a smile on her bare and exposed face. Plo’s face twisted in shock.

“Sha?” The Kel Dor female ran across the room and threw herself into her Uncle’s arms.

“Uncle, how could you do that? Letting him remove your mask! I almost passed out on the floor of the temple with how badly your body took the blow,” Sha admonished, “It was so hard to find quick transport to this Medical station. Thankfully, I ran across your dear Sergeant here, and they were willing to take me to see you,” Sha explained as she pointed a thumb over at Sinker.

Plo smiled as he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers, “I have missed you, Little Sha,” Plo murmured softly, “Your mind is as beautiful as it was when I last saw you.”

“But yours is fraught with Shadows, Uncle... What is upsetting you so much?” Sha asked, but Plo shook his head.

_Not now. Not here. I don’t want them to know_

_But why not, Uncle? Does something trouble you?_

_Nothing more than the sudden realization of just how long we’ve fought... I’ll explain later._

Sha glared disapprovingly, but did not speak further on the matter, for which Plo was incredibly grateful, “When did you get here?” Plo asked instead, not enjoying the uncomfortable silence in the room that was met with Sha’s disapproving thoughts.

“About an hour ago, actually,” Sha answered, “Your Commander was very firm about letting you rest for a little while longer first,” she added with a smirk. _I sense his thoughts about you, Uncle. He is very protective_

_He is a good man and a dear friend, Sha. Do not torment him._ Plo warned, “Why, Wolffe. I wouldn’t have minded the disruption. It was nice to be asleep, I’ll admit, but seeing my dear troops and my niece? It would have been a worthy sacrifice,” Plo chuckled. Wolffe shook his head.

“They were eating anyways, General. You need your rest,” Wolffe said firmly. Plo held up his hands in defeat as Sinker chuckled in amusement.

“Nurse Wolffe... Careful with him, General. I’ve heard he’s killed more patients than he’s saved...” Sinker warned as Boost snickered. Wolffe cuffed Sinker over the head and rolled his eyes as Sha and Plo watched the exchange with twin smirks.

“I finally met Padowan Tano, Uncle. I can see why you’re so fond of her. She’s certainly very fond of you...” Sha pointed out with a fond smile. Plo smiled and nodded.

“She is a good girl...” 

_Daughter?_ Sha playfully inquired.

_Shush, young one._ Plo answered quickly. Sha hummed thoughtfully as she got off the bed and walked over the door.

“I’ll leave you to eat, Uncle. We can talk more later. By the way, Lissarkh and Bultar send their Love. They wanted to be here, but...”

Plo nodded sagely, “War calls us all,” He murmured, “I understand. When next you speak to them, tell them I am grateful for the thought,” Plo called. Sha bowed her head in acknowledgement before turning and leaving. Plo watched her go, knowing that tonight, they would both be up very late communicating telepathically. It had been so long since they’d last spoken, and Sha would no doubt have much to talk about. Plo was looking forward to it.

But until then, he had his Wolfpack here, with him, and they desperately wanted to tell him how things were going with the persuit of General Grievous.

“We’ll get him for you, General! And when we do, we’ll make sure to lay in a few extra hits for him taking off your mask,” Boost assured firmly. Plo chuckled fondly.

“Revenge is not the Jedi way, Boost,” Plo reminded him. Sinker smirked.

“That’s very true, General, and we respect that decision, but-”   
“We’re not Jedi general,” Boost finished with a grin. Plo shrugged and laughed along with the rest of his men.

“Well then,” Plo chuckled, “I guess there’s nothing I can do to stop you then.”


End file.
